


Retaliation

by ladynox



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Community: capkinkmeme, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladynox/pseuds/ladynox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That day in the alley, Bucky humiliated Hodge and he wants payback.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retaliation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://cradle-song.livejournal.com/profile)[**cradle_song**](http://cradle-song.livejournal.com/)'s [prompt](http://capkink.livejournal.com/810.html?thread=526122#t526122) on the [Cap kinkmeme](http://capkink.livejournal.com/).

  
Hodge never seemed like much of a fighter to Bucky, at least not a fighter with any kind of skill. He was all strength and flailing limbs that only looked grander than it was when Hodge was hitting someone small--like Steve. However, lying against the pile of crates he’d just fallen into, rubbing his stinging face, Bucky was forced to reevaluate his original analysis. Hodge had a killer left hook.

Despite that, Hodge wasn’t anything Bucky couldn’t deal with. At least on the days he wasn’t suffering two broken ribs courtesy of Hydra. Seriously, getting tossed around by Hodge was not what Bucky was expecting after returning from the Hydra base. He expected to be cleared by the medic and sent back to his quarters, which did go according to plan. However, what definitely wasn’t according to plan was getting grabbed by Hodge and dragged into a supply tent. He’d fought the minute he had been grabbed, finally squirming loose and getting a couple hits in despite his injuries before Hodge caught him in the stomach.

“Little bastard,” Hodge growled.

Bucky wasn’t particularly interested in Hodge’s grievances with him. All that mattered was that he assaulted Bucky unprovoked, which was something Bucky would not stand for. Once he _could_ stand, he’d explain that clearly to Hodge.

Hodge, on the other hand, wouldn’t stop flapping his lips about what was bothering him. Whatever it was. Bucky wasn’t really listening, all he’d caught was ‘kicked me in the ass’ and ‘humiliated’ before he tuned him out entirely. It wasn’t hard to do since his screaming ribs were doing a good job of vying for his attention as he pulled himself away from the crates.

“Having trouble there?” Hodge asked, moving closer to Bucky as he tried to sit up. “Here lemme give you a hand.” He grabbed Bucky by the hair, forcing him to either stand or experience getting his scalp ripped off his head.

As if sensing Bucky’s impending retaliation (broken ribs made one slow), Hodge kneed him in the groin. Stars exploded in front of Bucky’s eyes and he didn’t even realize he was hit again until he found himself stretched out on the floor with a split lip. His ribs were killing him, worse than a couple minutes ago so it was likely he landed on them. He moved experimentally, which was not a good idea. Bucky swore he could feel his ribs grating against each other. That definitely wasn’t good.

“Can’t say I’m enjoying your welcome back party,” Bucky quipped, which quickly turned hiss of pain because, suddenly, talking really hurt.

“Night’s still young,” Hodge responded, cracking his knuckles. “You haven’t suffered enough for what you did to me in that alley! You humiliated me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. Here we go again. “You humiliated yourself,” Bucky said. Would it have been wiser to not infuriate Hodge any further, considering he was in no condition to really fight back? Absolutely. But, like Steve, Bucky wasn’t particularly good at knowing when to back down or shut up. They’d just keep going until they either came out triumphant or completely bloodied. He’d never show weakness, never let the bullies win his dignity or pride. “And you’re humiliating yourself again. Can’t even fight me when I’m fresh, nah, have to wait until someone else softens me up first. You’re a pathetic loser,” he added.

As Bucky expected, that set Hodge off immediately. Also as expected, Hodge tried to kick him but this time Bucky was able to catch the incoming blow. His whole body shook from the shock of catching Hodge’s foot in his hands, but there was no time to succumb to the pain. He twisted Hodge’s foot as he yanked it towards his chest (times like this reminded Bucky that adrenaline was a beautiful thing), making the dumb ox lose his balance and fall. The sound of Hodge’s thick head hitting the ground was loud and sharp. It made Bucky think that he might have finished him.

Bucky started to stand. The action seemed agonizingly slow to him. Hodge was groaning but his eyes were closed so if Bucky could just hurry... but that tent flap seemed so far away. With an arm around his injured ribs, he started to move towards the exit. His head was killing him from the fall and the punches, and walking and breathing simultaneously felt like such a bad idea but he kept moving, getting closer and closer to the entrance.

Hodge was on top of him just before he reached the tent flap, arm around his neck and yanking Bucky back into the darkness. Bucky gasped in surprised, a gasp that became a scream when Hodge jammed his fist into Bucky’s side. He sagged against Hodge in pain, unable to do little more than breathe, allowing Hodge to turn him so he could slug him, again and again.

In between the ringing of his ears that accompanied each hit, Bucky could hear Hodge yelling about something. Very likely crying about humiliation, unable to deal with the fact that even in this state, Bucky was the better fighter. And he was the better fighter, Bucky’s current situation was just a hiccup in the normal flow of things.

“Was missing the ground,” Bucky murmured, glancing up at Hodge. One of his eyes was swelling shut, but Hodge didn’t look any better. He looked uglier than usual, his usually pale face purple with rage. Hodge’s brow and eye were swollen as well, Bucky noted with satisfaction. That hideous mug got closer as he straddled Bucky, raising his fist for another volley of hits.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

Hodge was off Bucky in a second. If that along with the pleasant sound of a fist connecting to Hodge’s face wasn’t enough to make Bucky smile, the owner of that voice sure did bring a big smile to his face. Well, it could have been bigger but activating those muscles also hurt like hell.

Steve was holding Hodge by his shirt, lifting him off the ground and just watching him struggle. “Why?” Steve demanded and if Bucky had the energy he’d shake his head in exasperation. Unlike Bucky, Steve always needed to know, needed to understand, even if the answer still wasn’t worth the time it took to ask it. Sometimes bad people just did bad things and you were better off never knowing why.

Hodge answered. Bucky was impressed that he didn’t lie but he probably knew that he wasn’t going to escape this licking no matter what stupid lie he told. Steve’s shoulders tensed further, but Bucky could see the self restraint in the way he stood. Still, always the good guy, Steve set Hodge on his feet as if he wanted to give Hodge a chance to defend himself. Steve stood in front of him, dwarfing him physically as he did in every other aspect. Steve had more integrity in his little finger than Hodge had in his whole body.

Steve hit him hard enough he seemed to fly into the crates. They broke under his weight. Hodge wasn’t moving but Steve took a step towards Hodge anyway, fists tightly curled as if he wanted to do more. He stopped himself, turning to look at Bucky instead, his strong sense of honor winning out.

“Bucky,” Steve said, kneeling by Bucky’s side and checking his injuries.

“I’ll be fine, Steve. Barely hurt.” Talking still hurt, it seemed, and Steve’s expression indicated he could tell and was not appreciating Bucky’s bravado one bit. So Bucky amended his statement. “Just a few broken ribs, same ribs that were broken before okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Going to take you to the medic,” Steve said, scooping Bucky up into his arms like he weighed no more than a child. That, Bucky would never be able to get use to or tolerate.

“Steve,” Bucky began.

“Deal with it. You’re not walking,” Steve said, making his way out of the tent.

And for once, Bucky listened. Maybe he’d taken too many blows to the head. He rested his head against Steve’s ridiculous new chest and listened to his ridiculously powerful heart beat.

“Thanks,” Bucky said.

“I owed you.”

The End.


End file.
